


The Temple

by kinglykook



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Biting, Blow Jobs, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Demon Crowley (Good Omens), Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Human Sacrifice, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sacrifice, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:42:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinglykook/pseuds/kinglykook
Summary: You’re chosen to be an offering to the angel Aziraphale in exchange for a miracle: protecting your village from invaders. As divine intervention (or a rigged coin toss) would have it, Aziraphale ends up travelling to Edinburgh, and asks Crowley to go collect the offering for him. Except Crowley was told it would only be a few baskets of harvest. Not you.Pairing ↝ Anthony J. Crowley x readerGenre ↝ Smut, fluffLength ↝ 7.1k words
Relationships: Crowley (Good Omens) & Reader, Crowley (Good Omens)/Reader, Crowley (Good Omens)/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 140





	The Temple

**Author's Note:**

> Want a commission? Message me here, or at kinglykook.tumblr.com OR the-ineffable-demon-crowley.tumblr.com 
> 
> Cross posted to tumblr under the-ineffable-demon-crowley.tumblr.com

“I’m away to Edinburgh tomorrow.” The angel said.

“So very damp.” The demon complained. “I’m meant to be there as well.”

“Well... suppose I’ll see you there, Crowley.”

Crowley turned his head and smiled wickedly at the angel named Aziraphale. Though he tried, the angel did not look as surprised to see that look on the demon’s face as he should have been. This wouldn’t be the first time they’d come to form some sort of an arrangement. 

“I’ll flip you for it.” Crowley offered. 

Aziraphale paused and looked over both shoulders, hesitatingly so as if he expected God herself to come out and discorporate them both. He then looked at the demon, and nodded subtly. Crowley smiled to himself, and reached in to grab a coin from his pocket. He always kept one in his pocket just for such an occasion - there had been many arrangements over the centuries that required flipping. He could probably count on one hand the amount of times Aziraphale won. 

He held it between his fingers, then with a snap, flipped it. The coin hung in mid-air until Aziraphale called it - and he almost always calls ‘heads’. Tails is reserved for you, for obvious reasons, he once explained. The coin fell onto the back of Crowley’s hand with a soft tap, proudly displaying the opposite side. Aziraphale huffed, slightly put off at the typicality of the result as he crossed his arms. He still never questioned the fairness of Crowley’s flips, which he should have, Crowley reasoned, so it was perfectly acceptable that he not broach the subject. 

The coin was slipped back into his pocket. 

“Oh, alright.” Aziraphale conceded, arms dropping to his sides. “I’ll go to Edinburgh. And you stay here where it’s lovely and... warm.” He pouted, but Crowley flashed his signature grin, and Aziraphale knew there was no appealing the demon. 

“Bring your wellies, angel.”

“You really are a scoundrel. Now, let me think... Alright, then I shall have to wrap up some things here then, and be out first thing. Oh drat! That reminds me - there’s a small village east of here that pledges some of their harvest to me, be a dear and go pick it up. It’s just a basketful or two of fruits and vegetables. I wouldn’t want to be rude.” 

Crowley blinked behind his spectacles. “I’m sorry, this lot give you a sacrifice like you’re some sort of ancient deity?”

Aziraphale scoffed in his posh way. “Hardly. I did some petty miracles for them a few decades ago, revived some malnourished crops, and this is their way of thanking me. It’s become a proper tradition.” He smiled, chest puffed out a bit, pleased with the idea. Crowley looked less enthused, tossing his head to the side with something nearing a sneer on his face.

“Won’t they notice we look only slightly different? Y’know, general demonic appearance, and all?”

“No, no, you needn’t be seen. Just go to the temple at dusk, there’ll be nobody in there. Oh, Crowley, you simply must go. They have the most divine pears.” 

Crowley barked a laugh at that. “How am I meant to go into a temple? I’ll be tenderized into a pair of boots.”

“It’s less of a temple and more of a ceremonial altar. Really, now you’re just looking for excuses, Crowley. And anyway, you owe me. I’m almost certain you cheated this time.” Aziraphale snapped his fingers and miracled himself away after the last word. Crowley noticed how he’d only said ‘this’ coin toss, and he wondered what made Aziraphale suspicious this time. Perhaps he hadn’t put enough oomph into it. Well, it was a small price to pay for not having to ride a horse in Scotland. Picking up a basket of fruits from some temple sounded relatively doable, and he knew Aziraphale would never forgive him if he stood between him and his pears. 

Especially pears that he’d eat with crepes. 

So Crowley waited until dusk fell, then he sought out the village to the east. It didn’t take long, not for a demon anyway. When he came upon it, the sun was beginning to set and from a tall hill on the town’s perimeter, he watched as the villagers doused candles in their homes. A breeze buffeted Crowley’s loose tunic, the ends of hair not tucked into the bun tickling his shoulders. He trained his eyes on each of the simple yet sturdily built structures within the village until he spotted one in particular. Even from a distance, he could see that the wood and stone used to build it were ornately carved, with a looming arch and small pillars. It positively screamed temple- er, ceremonial building to him, anyway.

As the little village tucked away under the hill prepared for slumber, Crowley set down the hill rather leisurely. He’d miracled himself to appear invisible, his presence marked only by an invisible breeze. What the villagers saw was a bit of a leaf swirling in the wind, when in reality, he traipsed through the town quite comfortably, glancing at each of the homes as he passed. 

Though most of the lights had now been doused, Crowley saw that a few people stayed outside, positioned several feet away from each other, at what seemed to be their posts. Weapons glinted menacingly in their hands, axes and knives and bats. They were arming themselves. But against who? 

Crowley continued on, idly wondering what sort of miracles Aziraphale had managed for the villagers, and if they had gone sour. 

Still, he was only here to pick up some fruit; it was no concern of his. Perhaps he’d mention it to Aziraphale later, if he remembered (though the last time he’d had a mind to remind Aziraphale of something, it had been a few thousand years later and that particular civilization had collapsed). Regardless, he continued on with his stroll through the folksy town square, under the awnings of the shops until he reached the front of the temple (in his mind it was still a temple). 

His chin tilted upwards as he surveyed the building, found it rather mediocre as far as temples went, and sighed quietly. Bloody angel. He lifted one hand, and with slender fingers, snapped himself inside. Immediately, he felt the overwhelming solemness settle onto his shoulders, a most unsettling feeling. He shook it off, and looked down to see his feet were still firmly flat on the ground. No burning. The angel was right, it wasn’t consecrated.

“Hm. I would’ve thought he’d be lying if he wasn’t an angel.” Crowley mused to himself. He reached up and tucked a loose strand of red hair back that had fallen out of the bun behind his ear, and stepped deeper into the temple. The building was mostly stone inside, with altars carved into the sides of great boulders worn down and shaped to be suitable to build with. 

He walked along the interior, fingers brushing over the cool stone faces of the pillars, mindlessly loitering around, seeing no fruits or vegetables, until he spotted another door. The inner sanctum. Alright, let’s get this over with. 

Crowley’s light touch against the wood of the door prompted it to open without a single sound. As he walked in, the entirety of the room was shrouded in shadow, aside from a raised stone platform which was bathed in the light of the moonlight from the skylight above. His steps were slow, the heels of his shoes clicking quietly against the stone floors. His eyes fell upon the bounty; a basket of plump fruits, fresh vegetables, what looked like some baked goods wrapped in cheesecloth, and... a woman.

Crowley blinked behind his black spectacles as the woman raised her head from her position laying on a flat stone surface where the foodstuffs had been placed. She did not seem surprised to see him, which did not necessarily comfort him any. 

“Ngk.” Said Crowley. 

~ ~

The stone was cool against your cheek, and your breath was even as it fanned out against the rock beneath you. Your fingertips traced patterns around the small embedded stones mindlessly, shifting only slightly when the hardness of the surface began to stiffen your bones. The moonlight cast pale blue light upon your skin, and black shadows underneath your raised hand. You studied it with pointless scrutiny, anything to keep your mind off the coming dawn. The one you weren’t likely to see.

Truth be told, you weren’t afraid. There were worse things than being offered to an angelic deity as an attempt to beseech him to protect the village from a looming threat. It had to be done. Even from behind thick stone walls, you could hear the clattering of the weapons the able-bodied brandished to protect themselves and their loved ones through the night. The sounds travelled down through the skylight, and you tried to close your ears to it all, humming a soft song to yourself to fill your mind. 

You thought you might be nervous, pacing, climbing out of your skin, but nothing suited you more than just laying there in the moonlight. Almost as though you could already feel the angelic presence surrounding you through the moonlight pouring in. Reassuring you that things would be alright. But the moon would also act as a signal. It was said he would appear when the moon was at its peak; directly above the opening of the skylight above you. For now, it simply skirted the edge of it, as though peeking in. Wouldn’t be much longer now, you mused. When you volunteered to be the offering, nobody really argued. You had almost no ties to this village, having been left on the doorstep of this very temple when you were just a baby. 

The phrase ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ rang true in your case, and while everybody was kind and generous as you grew up, nobody took the role of family. Everybody already had their own, and you didn’t fit into any of them. Nobody had time to spend on a child that wasn’t blood when survival was on the line. So you wandered around from home to home, perfectly content to spend your days lost in the forests around or holed up in this very temple. How poetic that you were now being offered up in the same place you had been abandoned just two decades ago. 

You’d wanted more from life, and this was your way of getting it, no matter how it all ended. But your intentions weren’t all selfish. You still loved the village you grew up in, and you didn’t want to see it burned to the ground by invaders. You couldn’t afford to lose another home, even if you weren’t around to see it saved.

Suddenly, the stillness of the atmosphere was disturbed. A soft clicking sound reverberated in your ears, the unmistakable noise of a leisurely cant. You lifted your head, and found yourself staring at a man. 

Who was certainly no angel. 

“Ngk.” Was all he said. You blinked as he stepped closer from out of the shadows, clearly very uncertain of your presence. His lithe and lean form was slightly hunched as though in thought, fingers stuck in the pockets of his dark trousers. His black tunic hung loosely from his shoulders, as did the bun on the back of his head, allowing stray locks of fiery hair to come loose. But what was most peculiar was the pair of black spectacles perched atop his nose, hiding his eyes from you. His entire presence was slack, nothing at all like the formality you’d been expecting.

You stared at each another for a silent beat. 

“Is that how most angels talk?” You asked, your voice ringing through the stone walls. You hadn’t meant to sound impertinent, only that you were fairly certain no angel looked like this, clad in black like a warrior. He was beautiful like an angel would be, but a different aura seemed to flow from him than piety. Temptation. 

“Er, yes. Something like that anyway. And um, you are?” His voice was low, smooth, but decidedly confused. You smirked. 

“Y/N.”

“Right, that obviously clears it up.” He responded sardonically. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m here as an offering to the angel Aziraphale. And your name is?” You raised a brow, lifting yourself to a seated position. Your white dress positively glowed under the moonlight, bringing an ethereal aura to you. Crowley blinked at the sight of you behind darkened lenses.

“Aziraphale, of course. Silly girl.” Crowley replied easily, smirking in return. 

You scooted to the edge of the raised platform, letting your feet rest on the stone step below, and adjusted your dress to drape nicely over your legs. Glancing at the man with a scoff, a disbelieving smile encroached on your lips. “I think not.”

“And what makes you think to the contrary?” His words were almost purred, the first attack of charms from... whatever he was. 

You lifted your hand and gestured vaguely at him. “Just. All of you.”

“You have a way with words, don’t you, love?” 

“Well,” You shrugged, absentmindedly touching your hair. It had been done up, but you rolling around on the ground had made it come loose. You touched a few stray strands, unsure what to do with your hands, and dropped your eyes from the man. “I guess I didn’t think being a sacrifice required much articulation. I am, after all, an afterthought to all the pears.”

“Ah yes, those bloody pears.” The bloody pears that had netted him in this situation. And Aziraphale, he’d get an earful. Did he know about this? Was this revenge for the coin toss?

“An angel who curses.” You deadpanned.

“A sacrifice with a lip.” He responded smoothly.

You stood from your place on the stone table, and stepped down from it. He hadn’t moved this entire time, regarding you from a distances with cool indifference. If he was here to eat you, he was taking his sweet time. Perhaps he liked having philosophical, self-scrutinizing discussions about his identity with his prey. Perhaps he just liked being a trickster. You couldn’t read his eyes, and that gave him the advantage. You’d essentially decided that he was here for no good, though for all intents and purposes, you’d obviously never seen an angel before. Who were you to decide what one should look like?

“You’re still keeping up this facade?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m merely here for the food. What you’re doing here remains an utter mystery to me.” Crowley gestured towards the food with his elbow, his fingers still locked in the pockets of his trousers. 

You crossed your arms over your chest petulantly. You hadn’t expected any sort of fanfare, but this was getting a little insulting. Wasn’t this meant to be a little bit more... climactic? 

“Look, are you going to take me or not?”

Crowley choked on nothing. “Pardon?” 

“Take me. As an offering.”

“To what extent exactly?”

You threw your hands up in the air in frustration. “To save my village, you... being! We’re at risk of being raided by another clan, we need nothing short of a miracle!” 

Crowley made a noise of understanding. That explained the brandishing of the weapons outside the temple. Apparently the village was looking to tack on another miracle in exchange for the girl. Though what Aziraphale was meant to do with her, he had no idea. “That lot out there, with the angry faces and sharp things.”

You didn’t know if he was mocking you or not, but the longer you stood in front of him, the more you were starting to get a little distracted from the matter at hand. The way he was standing in the moonlight let you look at him more clearly, and it was becoming unsettling just how beautiful he was to you. The fact that you couldn’t read his gaze made him all the more mysterious, the more unknown. And you wanted to know who this man really was.

“What’s your name?” You repeated. 

“Crowley.” He purred again, suddenly taking a step forward. Despite your initial confidence, you jumped and nearly tripped over the steps as an attempt to jump back. You’d barely noticed he’d given his real name in that moment. “Well skittish, aren’t you, love?” His long fingers calmly reached for an apple that sat atop the pile. It was a bright gleaming red, though it looked like a pallid pink in the light of the night. 

“Not a pear?” You couldn’t help but tease, though your voice shook a bit. Perhaps it wasn’t best to anger him, not until you knew more about him. The closer he was, the more curious you became. His features were sharp up close, but chiseled like a statue. His skin looked smooth, and his hair soft to the touch. You swallowed. 

“Oh, apples have been a favourite of mine for a long time.” He grinned like he knew something you didn’t, and took a bite. Gesturing with the pierced fruit at the baskets, he spoke while chewing, “Go on. It is yours, after all.”

You were still sat on the edge of the step on the side of the table, having somewhat collected yourself after falling back. Still, your heart hammered. He was an unpredictable, strange man, and you were alone with him. But.. you were also hungry. Crowley continued to chew, this time pacing a few steps back and forth as he surveyed the temple, as though he’d only come in for a visit. Though it was surely akin to some sort of sacrilege, you leaned forward and plucked a peach from one of the woven baskets. It was soft and ripe in your hands. You took a bite, but your eyes did not leave the curious man. 

“So you’re not Aziraphale.” You deduced, sucking the juice from the peach. Crowley swivelled on his heel at your words, the apple now missing several bites from it. He continued gesturing with it as he spoke.

“‘M not. But I do know him. He was indisposed, so here I am.” He sighed quietly. “Dealing with his complications.” 

You hooked your arms around your knees, your peach hooked between your thumb and index finger. “You’re also not an angel.”

Crowley shrugged. “Nobody wants a history lesson, love. I fancied a walk, and sauntered vaguely downward one day. It became a whole thing.” 

You quirked a brow at that, chewing another bite of the fruit. “A demon then.” 

Crowley began slowly pacing towards you, but you forced yourself not to flinch. The longer you spoke, the less afraid you were of him, but that didn’t mean you knew what he was capable of either. “Very good, angel.” He praised in that raspy voice. You felt yourself flush, and hoped the temple was too dark to see. “How d’you feel about that, then? Being in the same temple as a demon?”

Your eyes widened slightly at his words. Truthfully, you hadn’t even considered that. 

“Well-”

“And what was Aziraphale meant to do with you, anyways?”

“I-I don’t know. It’s just what’s done, isn’t it? Whatever he saw... fit to do.”

Crowley was silent for a beat, but the smirk on his lips said it all. “And as his stand-in, does that extend to me? Do whatever I see fit?”

You laughed dryly. “Only if you keep up your end of the bargain, demon. And you can’t do miracles.”

“‘Course I can, angel.” He tossed the empty apple core into the air, snapped his fingers, and it disappeared without a trace. Your lips parted in surprise. The peach pit also suddenly disappeared from between your fingers, leaving them empty and sticky from the juices. 

“How...” You murmured to yourself, staring at your hand, then stood up triumphantly from the steps. “Wait, you can? Then you can help us!” You picked up your skirts and ran down the steps towards the demon, stopping just a few feet short. It was hard to keep your wits about you, especially when he turned to look at you with thinly veiled curiosity. Even from behind his glasses, you could tell he was as intrigued as you were. 

He pursed his lips in thought for a moment, then furrowed his brows. “Why would you want to help a village that’s offered you up so easily?”

“I don’t know, I suppose I still want to do right by them. And anyway, this was my choice.”

“Well, that’s normal.”

You smiled to yourself; he was right. This was not the normal thing a young woman would choose to do, but you were beginning to get the feeling that this was meant to happen. “Will you help us?” Your request was quiet, your voice barely travelling the length of the distance between you. 

Crowley didn’t respond for a moment, and he thought hard. Between you and Aziraphale, he’d get an earful if he didn’t do this one favour. Especially if this town’s pear supply was eradicated. Nobody had to know. 

“I don’t have to, y’know, ceremoniously drink your blood if I say yes, do I?” 

“Well, I’d think you’d know more about the nature of demons than I would, Crowley.” You purred his name back at him, attempting to throw some of his tricks back at him. It seemed to work; he raised his brows playfully.

“Nah. Our lot prefer alcohol, and this being a temple and all, I don’t fancy there being any nearby. Your blood will have to do.” He nodded solemnly, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Jokes aside, you paled at his words, which he seemed to find very amusing. “Relax, angel. Not my taste.”

“Will you take the harvest then, in return?”

“I will.” 

“And me?” You felt your heart begin to beat faster. “Are you going to kill me? Do you need my s-soul?” Curses, that was difficult to get out. Perhaps this sacrifice business required a little bit more strength than you’d anticipated. When actually faced with the reckoning, you’d begun to falter. You balled your fingers into fists, digging your nails in to keep yourself present. It wouldn’t do to pass out now. 

“Is that what you want?”

You didn’t respond. You let out a shaky breath, and released your nails from your skin. Crowley began to slowly walk towards you, just five paces or so, absolutely nothing for his long legs. He towered over you, but his presence was not as intimidating as you’d expected. For all intents and purposes, he’d been respectful of you during all of this. So you weren’t afraid when he raised his hand, and using his index finger, slowly traced it down your cheekbone to your jawline, and along the column of your neck. His touch did not travel any farther down. Your breathing grew shallow, skin burning from where he’d touched it. It was an addictive feeling, and you found yourself already craving more. 

“I’m not going to kill you, angel, because that would be a sin at which even hell itself would shudder. I don’t need your soul or your blood.” He spoke lowly, calmly, and all the while you couldn’t think of anything but his hands on you again. To your frustration, his hand fell to his side and did not come near you again. You hung on his every word, entranced in the sound of it, the roughness of it. “Your village will be safe from any attackers. And in payment for this miracle, I just came for the fruit.” His mask fell away, and he grinned again. “Don’t tell anybody, I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

He stepped back away from you, and the spell between you was broken. His eyes turned towards the baskets still lining the steps of the ceremonial altar. He stepped around you to assess them, and with three consecutive snaps of his fingers, they disappeared. The stone steps were bare now, except for you, the last of the sacrifices.

“I can’t go back.” You said suddenly. Crowley turned his head to look at you, a confusion etched on his features.

“Are they expecting to find a bloodbath in the morning or something? Blimey.”

“No-” You couldn’t help but laugh a little, though defeat was beginning to seep into your voice. “No, it’s just- I don’t belong there. I never did, and if I go back to the village as the one who escaped the sacrifice, they’ll never accept me. Even if the raiders never attack. They’ll say it was their own doing, warding them off with their men.”

“That’s why you did this whole sacrifice thing then?”

“Yes.” You replied quietly, almost feeling foolish. “I just wanted to experience something new, feel a purpose. Even if it was just for tonight.”

“Right. Of course.” Crowley took his spectacles off, but his eyes were closed and his fingers were rubbing at them. You couldn’t help but peer, trying to see the reason why he wore them even in the darkness. He replaced them before his eyes opened again, but from what you saw, he looked perfectly normal. He let out a short breath, “You’ll have to come with me then, angel.”

“Wh- to hell?”

Crowley snorted. “Not unless you’ve committed some atrocious sins, which I somehow doubt. Anywhere you like. Other side of the world, or across the river. If you can’t stay here, you can choose where you’d like to.” 

Relief burst through your heart, though outwardly, you were still coming to grips with his words, standing perfectly still with your mind racing. It all almost seemed too good to be true, and yet you’d be damned - literally - before you let it all slip away. Crowley was standing on the raised part of the stone platform, and you stepped onto it to meet him. He still towered over you, looking devilishly handsome in black. 

“That’s two miracles, then.” You looked up at him. He was watching you curiously. Your eyes scanned his face. “The addition of a second miracle requires further payment. Can I give you something?” 

Crowley inclined his head in acquiescence. The moonlight drowned both of you in its cold, blue light, yet the demon in front of you still looked warm to the touch. His hair retained its fiery red colour, even tucked back into the loose bun, and his skin was a warm hue. You lifted your hand, fingers mirroring his previously as they traced over his cheek and jawline. It was then that you noticed a small black smudge near his hairline, depicting the symbol of a snake. Your other hand came up to cup his other cheek, at which point you stood on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his. 

You felt him kiss you back, you felt it with every fibre of your being as his lips pressed into yours, deepening the kiss. The feeling immediately spread warmth into your chest, but it didn’t last. He broke the kiss, concern adorning his face.

“You’re not indebted to me.”

You smiled. “Not anymore, I’m not. The kiss was your payment. Anything else is because I want to.” 

“Anything else?” He repeated in that low tone, and you just knew he was doing it on purpose this time. “Don’t you know it’s bad practice to tempt demons, angel? What am I meant to do?”

“Sin, of course. Silly demon.”

He playfully mocked your teasing smile, which made you laugh. The sound quickly died in your throat as his lips crashed against yours again, this time more fervently. It wasn’t until your own hands, gingerly and hesitantly, touched his sides that his hands came up to rest on your waist. For a demon, he was certainly gentlemanly, you thought dryly. 

You became bolder by fisting his tunic in your hands as his kiss deepened, his large hand come up to snake into your hair. Your updo began to fall apart at his touch, though you suspected that was no accident as pins tumbled to the floor. His other hand tightened around your waist, bringing you closer against his lean, hard body. The juxtaposition of his rough tunic and leathery trousers compared to your white, draping gown created a delicious friction, and you wanted nothing more than for him to tear it off. He broke the kiss again, both of his hands slipping along your waist, down to your hips and over your bottom. Your fingers gripped his shoulders, a small gasp from your lips. He brought his mouth to your ear.

“Just remember you asked for it, love.” He growled, then licked a short stripe down the column of your throat, just underneath your ear. You shivered in his arms, nails digging into him. “As long as you want this, you’ll get it.”

“And when will I get it?” You teased, at which point you felt his teeth nip at your neck. You let out a quiet yelp at the feeling of his canines scraping against your skin, and you felt him laugh against the crook of your shoulder. He soothed the sting with a kiss, at which point you heard him murmuring against your neck. 

“Are you a virgin, love?”

“No.” You admitted shyly. 

Crowley chuckled again. “It’s not a requirement.” 

“Now, first things first,” He lifted himself to his full height, and you tipped your chin back to regard him. The moonlight created a soft aura around him, in direct opposition to the wicked way he was looking at you now. You could practically picture him licking his lips. “On your knees. Like a good sacrifice.”

Before taking your position, you reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, unable to stop yourself from tasting his skin. Your eyes fell to his trousers, and you began undoing the corded leather belt that cinched him in. His waist was impossibly slim, and you couldn’t help but see the snakelike resemblance. You could already see he was hard through his trousers, and you teasingly passed your hand over the bulge. He hissed in pleasure, one of his hands coming down to tangle in your hair, now freed from its pinned-up confines. “Don’t tease me, love, or you’ll have a long night ahead of you.”

You chuckled smugly to yourself, and began to kneel down when you felt your legs hit a soft surface. A cushion had appeared on the stone surface, providing a welcome barrier between your skin and the cold floor where your dress would not have sufficed. 

“A kind demon.” You mused to yourself, and you felt his grip tighten in your hair impatiently. You smiled, knowing he must not have appreciated that. Finally, you pulled his trousers down, allowing his hard cock to spring free. He was long, but mostly he was thick. You let your hand pump against him a few times, then you proceeded to take him into your mouth. 

Crowley groaned above you, fingers scraping deliciously against your hair. You saw that he was trying his best not to thrust into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but internally applaud his self-restraint.. for a demon. You bobbed your mouth up and down, using your hands for the last inch or two you couldn’t fit. He was hard and heavy on your tongue as you swirled it around the head, tasting the salty pre-cum. 

“Oh, so good for me, angel.” He said hoarsely. 

You placed your hands on his hips, eyes flickering up to his as you sucked on his cock. His praise warmed you, but it was the sensation of being on your knees for a demon that was beginning to make you soaked between your legs. When his eyes met yours, you nodded slightly, and he acted upon the permission you gave fervently. His hips gently thrusted forward against your mouth, causing tears to spring to your eyes almost immediately. You dug your nails into his hips after a few more thrusts, and he pulled himself out of you, your saliva connecting to his still hardened cock. 

“There’s a good love,” He praised quietly, and pulled you up from your knees. “But I need you to stop there, if I’m to take you properly.” He spun you around with a flick of his wrist, deft fingers immediately working on the clasps of the dress. You knew he could have just snapped his fingers and it would have disappeared completely, but you weren’t complaining against the feeling of his hands against your skin, caressing as the gown fell to your feet. He slowly turned you back around, hands slipping from your hips to your breasts, which he kneaded gently. 

You took the opportunity to tug on the bottom of his tunic, which disappeared in a moment’s notice at your request. His pants followed, leaving you both naked. 

“I’d love to taste you, angel.” He murmured as he fell to his knees himself in front of you, and you blushed at how obvious your arousal was. It was not lost on him, either. “-But I can see you’re far too excited for that, hm? Do you think you’re ready to take me, angel?” His fingers slowly made his way between your legs, and with practiced swiftness, one of his fingers slid inside of you. You let out a shuddered gasp, goosebumps breaking out all over your skin. 

“Yes, let me take you, Crowley.” You hissed at the feeling of his thumb barely ghosting over your clit, but giving you no relief in your frustration. He was enjoying the power, you saw it in his grin. “God, please.” 

A second finger slid inside, and your breath quickened at the feeling. You were positively dripping at this point, your arousal slick against his fingers. Again, his thumb just barely touched your clit before his hand was gone completely, and you were in his arms. Desperate for his touch, you wrapped your legs around his slim waist, and felt yourself being lowered onto a soft sed of blankets. Turning your head to the side, you saw that you were surrounded by a lavish display of feather-filled cushions and blankets, turning the raised stone surface into a temple of hedonism. 

Crowley hovered over you, his arms corded with lean muscle on either side of your head. His hair had almost completely come loose from his bun now, so you reached up and tugged the rest of it out, tossing the band aside. His red hair fell to frame his face, creating a hellish aura that seemed far more appropriate for him and his station... and for what he was about to do to you. You reached up, brushing some of his hair away from his face. 

“Can you take them off?” You whispered, seeing a tiny version of your face reflected back at you in a fuzzy, distorted image against the black spectacles. 

“Not sure you know what you got yourself into, love.” He warned, but raised a hand to take them off all the same. You watched his body shift, appreciating the sinewy way he moved. The spectacles were gone, and you gazed up into his uncovered eyes. They were a little startling, perhaps, but you had assumed he’d look something of the sort. You raised a hand to swipe your thumb underneath his eye, smiling as you looked up at him. His gaze was green-yellow, positively reptilian, but you preferred it to the blackness of the spectacles; at least now you could see the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. 

You tightened your legs around his hips, and bucked up. The heat boiling in your lower stomach was getting to be too much to handle. Crowley’s face scrunched in a moment of pleasure as you displayed your frustration, and his grin grew.

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you? So eager to be sullied by the likes of a demon. Ready for me?” He pressed a kiss to your collarbone, and you nodded, feeling yourself dripping against both your skin and his. He must’ve felt it too, because he didn’t spare another second before sinking fluidly inside of your folds. You shuddered at the feeling, your breathing immediately becoming uneven as his hips, slowy at first, then steadily, built up a pace. 

He was thick and hard inside of you, hips rolling against your pubic bone in order to hit that one sensitive spot. You positively keened against him, never having been so full before in your life. Bucking your hips against his, you finally started to feel the friction you had been searching for so desperately this entire time. Crowley’s hips pounded mercilessly against you, skin slapping against yours in the silence of the temple. Only your groans and his panting could be heard, though it was steadily growing louder. 

You cried out when you felt his hand snake down between the two of you, and begin to rub against your clit. His thumb pressed down against it harshly, and you squirmed against the overwhelming sensations. All the while, he thrusted in and out of you without breaking his rhythm. 

“Crowley!” You sobbed, your own hips unable to keep up. Instead, he pressed you down with one large hand, the other still rolling around your clit. Unable to move, you had no choice but to take his relentless cock.

“Yes, angel.” He hissed, pleased with the way your sensitive body was reacting to him, back arching as you desperately sought your release. Oh, he’d give it to you, alright. “I’m here, and you are mine. Say it.” His hand released your hips and moved to your breasts. 

“I’m-” You cried out again as his fingers rolled one of your pebbled nipples.

“Say it and I’ll let you cum.” He cursed at the way you clenched around him when he said that. “Liked that, did we? Knowing your release is in my hands? Be a good girl and say it.”

“I’m yours!” You panted between your words, your breaths now laboured as his fingers returned to your clit. The only way you could tell that he was close too was by the way his hips began to stutter against yours, though each of his thrusts remained hard and perfectly calculated to hit your sweet spot every time. 

It didn’t take much more - a few more swipes, and the sight of his face, a wicked smile that reached his demonic eyes, to set you off. You bucked your hips against his a few times to ride out your release as it sent sparks up and down your spine, and stars behind your eyes. You tightened your legs around him as he thrusted one, two, three more times inside of you, fingers still swiping at your clit. You squirmed at the overstimulation, fingers digging into his back as he pressed his hips against yours, spilling himself inside of you.

“Fuck, angel!”

You gasped, feeling his hot cum fill you up, and you desperately soaking all of it up. He collapsed beside you moments later, and you felt your arousal mixing with his release all over the inside of your thighs. But you were too exhausted, laying spent on the velvety blankets, to care. A thick fur blanket materialized on top of you, and you happily pulled it over your shoulders. The moon had now passed over the skylight and was no longer visible. Instead, the sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of purple. The thought of morning almost seemed threatening to the little hideaway this had become for the two of you. You smiled as you felt Crowley’s arms wrap around your waist, pressing his chest against your back. His chin rested on top of your head, and you were certain he could feel your heartbeat hammering away underneath his hands. 

“Well, I don’t know what Aziraphale would’ve done with you, but I know it wouldn’t have been that.” 

You couldn’t help but a laugh, fighting sleep as it tried to take hold. You wanted to cherish was little time you had left in this temple, silly as it might have seemed. Though you wanted nothing more than to see the world, and hopefully Crowley again, you knew you’d look back at this village and this temple (and especially what happened inside of it) with happiness in the years to come. 

“I guess it’s a good thing you showed up instead, hm? Can I call it kismet?”

“If you like.” Crowley’s nose nuzzled against your neck. “Though I prefer ‘divine intervention’.”

“Who, Aziraphale?”

“No, love, a rigged coin-toss.” 

You turned your head to face Crowley with a disbelieving smile. “All of this was dependant on a coin toss?”

“A cheated coin toss, you must learn to listen.” Crowley taunted.

“And you didn’t know I’d be here?” You asked, your fingers trailing up and down his arm, the one wrapped around your waist.

“No, I sent him packing to Edinburgh. He asked a favor of me to come here.” 

“Hm. So you won the coin toss, yet you did him a favor by coming here... then you did me a favour by promising to save my village, and to take me away from here.” You looked up at him, sparkly-eyed, high on the pleasure still coursing through your blood. Crowley’s gaze narrowed, and you grinned. “Awful nice of you. Did his angelic tendencies rub off on you?”

“I’m not nice!” Crowley grumbled petulantly. “’M a demon.”

“Of course you are.”

“Right then, let’s have that neck. Time for the ceremonial blood-drinking.” Crowley’s hands slithered against your body, and you shrieked at the feeling, squirming between fits of laughter. When his teeth nipped against your skin again, you screamed in mock fear of the villainous demon. Crowley’s mouth against yours muffled the sound, and you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

Meanwhile, down in the village, the moon began to fade, and the sun began peeking out over the horizon. The otherwise dewy and tranquil morning was broken by the sound that of blood-curdling scream, followed by an eerie silence that seemed to settle over the town. All of the villagers looked out from their windows, some stepping outside to see if they could witness anything happening. They all sighed and shook their heads, tutting at what a shame it was for the young woman to be taken so. Yet, as the fear began to shake off of them with every passing moment, a sense of relief spread through the inhabitants. The anxiety was gone. They would be safe now. 

And so would you.


End file.
